The Fall of Bakan’Grod

The surfacefolk were wholly unprepared. A shadow passed across the lands, infecting their minds and tainting them. Something in them changed and they were not the same. Most of their fleeting lives ended in an instant and those that remained… well… they began the hunt.      

Dawn

  The surface section of Bakan’Grod was largely saved from the immediate fate that befell most of the surfacefolk. The weather changed drastically just before dawn to an icy cold wind. Ice began to fall from the sky in fist-sized chunks. The gates to Bakan’Grod’s surface were opened daily once the first merchants and traders arrived but, on this day, the merchants didn’t come. Instead, the cold wind ripped through the trees out on the edges of the pains. From those trees came the beasts. Feral monsters, bleeding from the eyes and tearing towards the city at speed. More and more poured from the forest line, surging towards them.   The horns of battle were blown.   City guards were shocked awake by the sound and frantically began equipping themselves with their armour and weapons. This was not like the planned assaults that they had been trained for.   Echoing horns sounded lower down within the underground portion of the city, mimicking the first call. Within minutes giant bellows within the smelting district heaved into action and forced air into the defensive pipes that fed to the surface. The rumbling of the city’s defences rose until it was deafening. Within a minute, the sputtering from the stone-carved dwarven faces that guarded the walls grew to a huge spewing of magma that belched across the battlefield in front of the foe. The roar of Bakan’Grod would be felt by all who would choose to threaten the city.   The defending dragoon squads were the first to reach the defensible positions on the wall's battlement. As they looked across the plains, they saw the true scale of the threat. Elves had turned feral and were running on all fours alongside what they assumed were bloodied humans. All of which were sprinting full force into the magma pools created by the roar. Without so much as flinching when they ignited into a burning mess. Their bodies collapsed beneath them while they were still screaming with fury and with utter determination to reach the city walls. The new waves followed suit and managed to progress further by stepping over the ignited corpses.   All while thousands more continued to pour endlessly from the treeline.   At this sight, the horn sounded once more to issue the order of retreat. To fall back into the sanctuary of the city proper.      

Sealing the City

  The dwarves. They did as they had always done. When a threat rears its ugly head the doors are shut and sealed. A spare thought wasn’t spared for the likes of men, elves, orcs, goblins or frogfolk. The sealing of the cities was a statement of survival and longevity. However, it took only weeks before the longevity was discovered to be a slow death in disguise.   Almost immediately, the cargo trains stopped. Shipments were lost entirely and communication with any other settlement became impossible. With no information coming back and forth, the train hangers were sealed.   Within a few short weeks the majority of food stock soured, long before their due. Years worth of foodstuffs shrivelled and became rancid. With the events of Verd’Ain permeating their minds, the panic spread quickly. According to law, they punished those that resorted to theft and cast them to the lowest levels of the city with the rest of the rabble. Uprisings amongst the outcast quickly became commonplace when their rations were shorted to better supply the upper levels and the smuggling of goods was slowed to a halt. The merchant nobility of the city deemed executions to be the solution to both issues. Extreme measures called for extreme actions.   Within a month, the noises coming from outside the city gates became unbearable. Every rest period was plagued with noises of scraping on the city walls. A constant reminder that the threats that were being kept at bay were only meters away at all times.   In the eighth month, with no sign of reinforcements, the call was made. Every city street was rigged, trapped and ready for war. Every dwarf, regardless of age, was required to take up arms. The populace had decided to look death in the eyes rather than go out with a whimper in the night.   The gates were opened and the first outsiders in centuries took their first bloodied steps into the city.  

This is a submission for my second Summer Camp - I hope you enjoy the world I am building!